


Going to prison is like dying with your eyes open

by Dorthea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Awesome Sam Wilson, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, FebuWhump2021, Genius Peter Parker, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Imprisonment, Not Beta Read, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Precious Peter Parker, Prison, Protective Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Smart Peter Parker, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Whump, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29195718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorthea/pseuds/Dorthea
Summary: Peter slowly regains consciousness. There’s a deep ache in his head, right behind his eyes. His skull breaking itself open from the inside out. A nauseating feeling deep in his throat, and if he moved, if he could move that is, he’d throw up. But he can’t. His body feel as good as paralyzed. Numb and slow. Not responding at Peter tries to take a deep breath, neither when he attempts to force his eyes open. His head, his brain is so fuggy. He can sense the light on the other side of his eyelids. A sourer taste in the back of his mouth. The deep sound of water all around him.***Febuwhump 2021, Day 3,  Imprisonment.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Sam Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	Going to prison is like dying with your eyes open

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's a little late, I wasn't sure what direction to take the story but I decided on my first choice. Tho, the other idea I had was good, so it might get written a some point.
> 
> Febuwhump 2021, Day 3, Imprisonment.

Peter slowly regains consciousness. There’s a deep ache in his head, right behind his eyes. His skull breaking itself open from the inside out. A nauseating feeling deep in his throat, and if he moved, if he could move that is, he’d throw up. But he can’t. His body feel as good as paralyzed. Numb and slow. Not responding at Peter tries to take a deep breath, neither when he attempts to force his eyes open. His head, his brain is so fuggy. He can sense the light on the other side of his eyelids. A sourer taste in the back of his mouth. The deep sound of water all around him.  
  
Peter won’t lie and says, that this isn’t bad. It really, freaking is. Peter isn’t even sure how he’s ended up… well, wherever he is.  
  
He remembers Mr. Stark of course. The September foundation, or as Peter knew it, the superhero trip to Berlin. The fight stands clear a little too well. Falcon’s wings, the Winter soldiers’ arm, Captain America power, Ant man’s size. The plan, the fall. It’s all there.  
  
After that it goes fuggy. He’s pretty sure Happy drove him back to the hotel, with the order to stay in his room until future notice. But Peter isn’t sure he ever made it to his room.  
  
As Peter wakes up, just a little more, he hears it. The voices. So far away, yet so close. Like he can reach out and touch them, close. But so deep under water all the same. “How’s Rhodes?” a deep voice asks. It’s… familiar. But Peter isn’t sure who it is.  
  
“They’re flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow so… fingers crossed” Mr. Stark replies. His voice Peter will never forget. “What do you need? They feed you yet?”.  
  
“You’re the good cop now?” The other voice asks, distantly. Hatred deep in his throat.  
  
He hears a deep sigh, “I’m just the guy who needs to know where Steve went”.  
  
“Well, you better go get a bad cop” break, “Because you’re gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me”.  
  
“Well, I just knocked the A out of their AV. We got about 30 seconds before they realize it’s not their equipment” Tony’s voice is low, barely about a whisper, “Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I’m sorry”. With that Peter realized who the second voice belongs to. Ex-military, Sam Wilson, aka, Falcon.  
  
“That’s a first” Sam replies, “Why are you doing this?”.  
  
“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he’s about to need all the help he can get. We don’t know each other very well. You don’t have to…” Tony stops, “I… Sam. I can get you a deal. You’ll get out of here. But I need something to bargain with first, I need Cap and Barns”.  
  
Sighs, “He’s alright you know. For now”. Sigh “Look, I’ll tell you, but you have to go alone and as a friend. And… the kid needs to be you’re first priority. My field medicine and the small med kit Ross gave us won’t keep him alive. He needs help. Soon. He shouldn’t be here, Tony”.  
  
There’s not a second’s hesitation in Tony’s voice as he replies, “Easy”.  
  
With the information of where Captain America is, Mr. Stark leaves. And Peter, after what feels like forever finally manages to pull his eyes open. The light above him blinding. And with the additional light, the nausea grows. He feels whatever is in his stomach, rise through his throat. Burning all the way up, and as per reflex Peter pushes himself up on to his side, just as the stomach acid enters his mouth. And he throws up, halfway down onto the floor below him, and halfway down his cloth. Which isn’t his cloth, really. It’s a prison uniform. His eyes flutters shot again, as a dizziness hits him.  
  
The sudden movement reveals a throbbing pain in his ribs. A pressure in his chest. And peter gasps for air, attempting to get a good breath, without success.  
  
Strong, rough and steady hands place themselves on Peter’s back. Supporting him just enough, that he doesn’t fall down to the floor again, and into his own vomit. Brushing lightly over his shoulder, in a comforting and reassuring manner.  
  
Just like Ben always did when Peter was sick, laying on a mattress on the living room floor. Star Wars playing on the small TV screen, and a bucket by his side.  
  
“Kid?” Falcon asks, “Kid, you with us?”. The steady hands help him up into a sitting position, a wet cloth is placed against his face, drying up the vomit, “Can you open your eyes for me?”.  
  
It sounds like such a simple task, just open your eyes. But it isn’t. Every movement of his body is a struggle. It’s a constant fight, with the blinding sun on the other side of the thin skin that covers over his sensitive eyes. But he tries. He fights the sluggishness, and fogginess of his brain.  
  
It doesn’t feel at that long for Peter. Maybe a minute. But based on the worried hand tapping lightly against his face, and then a little big harder, tells him a different story. A story of worry.  
  
At least, Peter’s eyes flutter open once more. This time, not blinding by the strong light above him, but focusing in on Falcon’s face, Sam’s face. The dark skin shining under the lights. His dark brown eyes kind and soft, in a way they weren’t during the battle when Peter kept going on and on about science. About Bucky’s metal arm, the silverly vibranium, so cold, so perfect. And about the carbon fiber wings, the material choice could explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which trigger a good question. Was the web coming out of him? Answer’s no, but based on where he was right now, he kind of wish it did. Though it might be weird on a day-to-day basis.  
  
“Pupils aren’t blow, that’s a good thing” Sam looks him over, “That means you don’t go a head injury. Though, that doesn’t explain you throwing up. Allergic to any drugs? Medication?”.  
  
Peter shakes his head, regretting it right away as he once again feels so, so dizzy. “N-no” he replies instead, “E-enhanced s-s-senses”. Sam nods and breaths out a sigh of relief.  
  
“What’s your name kid?” Sam helps him sit up against a wall in the cell, “it feels weird just, calling you kid. I mean, you are a kid. But kid isn’t a name. And, we might be here a while, so a real name might be better than kid”.  
  
Peter should reply normally, just say his name and smile at this… well stranger. Or… he could make a joke. “Well…” Peter stammers between each breath, “Technically, my name could be kid. Unlike the names ‘Master’ and ‘Judge’, kid isn’t illegal” Sam smirks at him with half a smile, “My names Peter, though. Peter Benjamin Parker”.  
  
“Nice to meet you Pete” Sam holds out a hand, which Peter grabs for a handshake, “I see you’ve got a sense of humor. But… I’m sorry for the invasion of privacy, how’d you end up here?”.  
  
How did he end up here? The truth was, Peter didn’t really know. He had his guess of course, the accords had done a number on all of the avengers, making people who’d once fought for what right war criminals was. But that was a very one-sided view on things, Peter knew that. Yet he’d trust Mr. Stark when he showed up. Then again, Mr. Stark hadn’t given him all the details.  
  
And deep in Peter’s stomach, he knew, maybe he should have signed those paper’s too. But what would that cost him?  
  
May would have found out about Spider-man, about Peter’s secret. Peter wasn’t even 15 yet, he was a kid! He couldn’t have signed them on his own, even if he wanted to.  
  
And after that? After that whole the world would have gotten his name. Would have seen that boy underneath the mask. And then himself, and May… they’d be in danger. Ned would be in danger. The decathlon team, the robotics club, the band. Whole his school would be in danger if Peter stuck around. So he’d never get to graduate, or maybe he would but from some crazy private school. Or maybe Mr. Stark could have pulled strings and gotten him into MIT.  
  
But did Peter want to go to MIT at the age of 14? Not really.  
  
There was also the risk that the reason he was here, was to put pressure on Stark. Though that sounded less likely.  
  
“I was bitten by a radioactive spider on my field trip to Oscorp” Peter replies, that’s the easy part, “Seemingly… you can’t always trust the people you so desperately try to help”.  
  
“Radioactive spider-“ Sam stops in his own tracks, “You’re Spider-man?” Peter nods, “But you, you’re so young. You should be taking naps and drinking juice boxes, not fighting crime…”. Sam shakes his head, “Not important right now. But I need to know, does the web come out of you?”.  
  
Peter shakes his head with a small chuckle that hurts deep in his ribs, “No it doesn’t. It’s kind of like nylon, well… they share a lot of the chemical formula, but in a liquid version that is placed in a Web Cartridges. When I shoot it out it reacts with the air and becomes a somewhat solid solution that acts a bit like glue, but stronger… uhm, actually two point six times stronger than steal” Peter starts to explain, the fogginess become less as he slowly wakes up completely. His body responding. And deep breath finally coming deep into his lungs. “The Web Cartridges is placed in a web shooter, that wraps around my wrist, connected to a button which rest in the middle of my palm. And is trigger by” Peter shows how he moves his ring and middle finger down to his palm making his signature sign.  
  
“That sounds like the work of Tony Stark” Sam smiles, “How do you understand a word he says?”.  
  
Peter shakes his head, “Sure the new web shooters are Stark made. But the originals, and the web fluid is my creation”. Peter shrugs, “I make it in my deck during chemistry class”.  
  
“So, you’re a mini-Stark. Just what we needed” Sam sighs, “Are you two like, related or something?”.  
  
Peter looks confused at Sam and shakes his head, “No”.  
  
“Surprising” Sam smiles so kindly at him, that Peter feels safe despite the situation. The cell, with not just to reinforced glass but also Bars on the outside. The constant feeling of tilting, probably due to the water, and the darkness of the room. He couldn’t be here alone, but with Sam it’s okay. “We need to get you into some freeze cloth, don’t you think? That vomit is gonna smell really bad”.

***

_Happy drops him off in front of the hotel, “Stay in your room kid, I’ll come by later with dinner, but things are a little crazy right now. Okay?”. Peter nods and pulls the hoodie a little tighter around himself as he moves to open the door. Hiding the red and blue fabric underneath.  
  
“Of course, Mr. Happy” Peter reassures him. He doesn’t really have anywhere to go anyways, “Do you think Mr. Rhodes will be okay?”.  
  
“We’re hoping for the best kid. Now move along, I don’t got all day”. And so, Peter moves. The door opens with a click, and flings shut with a thud. Happy leaving the second the door is closed, never looking back. And so, Peter moves towards his room.  
  
Of course, he senses it before he pushes down the handle. He feels it deep in his neck, like a vibration that wont stop. A voice inside him tells him run, call Happy, Call Mr. Stark. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to interrupt whatever their so busy with. Peter get’s it! A man is down, hurt. Two people go away, and four is being moved to what Mr. Stark calls the raft.  
  
So he let’s the door open up, and finds nobody. Finds nothing.  
  
He shreds his suit and explores the room future. Finding a small box with some candy and a note from Mr. Stark. ‘Good work kid’. And it makes him smile, as he takes a bit of the chocolate.  
  
The voice comes from behind him, suddenly. “We finally meet Mr. Parker. Stark should have kept watch as his kid a little more carefully, don’t you think”.  
  
The chocolate drops to the floor, as the spidey sense scream. *Jump!”*, *Run!*, *Move!*.  
  
Peter isn’t fast enough._


End file.
